


Renée, The Red Nosed Reindeer!

by Pink_and_Velvet



Category: Duran Duran, Fashion Model RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Baking, Candles, Chaz The Cat, Christmas Jumpers, Christmas Party, Comfort, Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Dreams, F/M, Fairy Lights, Falling In Love, First Impressions, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff, Hot Chocolate, Kissing, Love at First Sight, Meet-Cute, Mulled wine, Reindeer, Rolf The Dog, Shyness, Snuggling, Softness, Touching, Wolfgang The Parakeet, apartment party, biscuits - Freeform, dressing up, festive, hygge, misteltoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:07:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27577609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pink_and_Velvet/pseuds/Pink_and_Velvet
Summary: Who would’ve thought, Renée baking her favourite festive treats to dish out to her new neighbours, would lead to this moment right here, right now. Standing beneath the mistletoe, craving another kiss from this mysterious stranger.He was growing accustomed to her too.Addicted,and not only to her biscuits.Modern-ish AU, A Christmas Party In Apartment 7609.
Relationships: Julie Anne Friedman/Nick Rhodes, Renée Simonsen/John Taylor (Duran Duran), Simon Le Bon/Yasmin Le Bon
Comments: 35
Kudos: 19





	1. Danish Butter Biscuits!

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been working on a few short, festive AU’s for a new favourite pairing: John/Renée. I needed a good break from hard hitting, complex and gripping stories. Some softness, some fluff. This is a real change of pace for me. Plus it’s Christmas time.
> 
> This story is set in more recent times. No models, no famous people, no drugs.

Clutching tight to her tray, Renée breathed in and let it go: put on her best front page worthy smile. She tapped lightly on the apartment door, directly opposite to her own. Apartment 7609. She hovered a moment, hearing a faint patter of footsteps and a small groan as the stranger unlatched his door.

“Oh, woah, hello!”

A tiny yet manic pup was at her feet, happily yapping.

“Rolf, Rolfie _stop_ it!” Another voice called, motioning for his dog to wander back inside the apartment.

Her gaze fell to the tray she was holding, Rolf was still yapping at her. Renée hoped that meant he liked her, soft paws raking over her ankles.

“ _Rolfie!_ ” They crouched down, prying the chirpy dog from her. “I’m so sorry, he gets so happy meeting new people. He really likes you, you know? Now shoo, Rolfie get in there!”

Her eyes followed the dog, sprinting back inside the apartment. They continued to apologise, Renée still yet to glance up and see him. See his smile. Her fresh, festive _Danish_ all-butter biscuits were steaming slightly, small wisps of aroma swirling around her. Separating her from the man before him.

“Christ I’m so sorry. Please.” They beckoned for her to talk, crowding the doorframe.

She began to speak, not looking directly up at the man stood before her.

“Hi, I uh, I’m new around here and I, and I was making cookies… and thought that I would bring some to my neighbours and say, you know,” she forced her gaze up, she was stunned into near silence. “… _Hi_.”

She was face to face with a beautiful stranger with flowing auburn hair, puffy cheeks and a blinding smile. He was dressed in a funny Christmas jumper with tacky stitching across his chest, leather trousers encasing very long legs. She glanced down at his socks, there were tiny reindeers printed on them.

Bringing her gaze back up, she noted that he was still smiling and appeared a little expectant. Many thoughts were flowing through her mind to introduce herself, hand him some biscuits, ask him his name, invite him around… gone. Her mind was blank.

“Erm, ‘ello? Are you alright?”

She shook her head, having no clue how long she had just stood there gawking at him.

“May I?” He peered under the foil wrapping her prized biscuits in tight, slipping one free.

“Uh, ye-yeah _sure_. Please.”

He snaked out two, taking a healthy bite. His eyes lit up, brows raising, gnawing away.

“Holy crap, these are amazing!” He stated, in-between gobbling them up. “You bake these yourself?”

Renée took a moment, mouth opening—

“Rolf, God! I’m sorry, hang on.” His mutt was back and yapping. Ever so excited. “He really, _really_ likes you!”

He picked up his dog, tail wagging and tongue salivating.

“Either that or he really wants my cookies!”

“Ha! Wouldn’t be the only one.”

“I’m sorry?”

He flushed. Renée scoffed, looking down to follow his eyes on her chest.

Rolf lurched forward to break the awkward moment, taking the man with him. His teeny paws dangled before her, tongue darting out; licking at the side of her face. Renée barked out a laugh, Rolf now slobbering with affection all over her.

“Okay; that’s enough!” He giggled, apologising further. Setting Rolf down again, the mutt again sped off back into the apartment – as if to invite Renée in. Really wanting her there.

“Yes,” she continued. “They’re my mother’s recipe. From back home.”

“Home? Oh the biscuits, right!” He queried, finally polishing off the second biscuit. Renée inwardly groaned, he hadn’t a clue that she was new to town. New to the _country,_ in fact.

“Yes, I’m from Denmark.” She confirmed, offering him a third biscuit. The buttered shortbread was addictive, he really seemed to enjoy them and their sugar. Maybe she was getting him _addicted_. “I like your jumper, very festive.” Renée squinted, reading the print. “When I think about you I touch my Elf... oh. _Oh_.”

Her gaze flared, he was sniggering. “Oh really? It’s abit quick for that, don’t you think? We’ve only just met!”

_Heilig Lort!_ “That’s _not_ what I meant and you know it!”

“It’s what the jumper meant, yeah.” Together, their laughter finally began to subside. “And that’s great. Did you just move in?”  
  


She took a step back, pointing behind her. “In the apartment opposite to yours, yes. 7611.”

“Ah, well it’s nice to meet you then, neighbour! Apologies again for Rolfie… he really must like you, want you to come in to play, y’know?” He giggled, brushing his long flowing hair from his face.

“Play with him or play with _you?_ ” She blurted.

His brows shot up, a small smirk tugging on his lips.

Then, the idea struck, Renée saw him visibly react, almost jumping. “I’m actually havin’ a small Christmas party on Friday, wanna join us? At Seven?”

“Join you and Rolf?”

“And Chaz, my tabby. If she feels like showin’ up! You know how cats can be.”

Renée did know, missing her kitty from back home. _Heidi better be taking good care of her!_

“Are you okay?”

Shaking the thought free from her mind, instead she found herself smiling wide, smiling bright. She knew she was blushing, the more he looked at her, the more he laughed…

“Yes, at least, I think so.”

Their gazes locked again, there was a delightful glimmer in his widened browns, she was being drawn in to his flame.

“Maybe you could bake some more of these bad boys!” He motioned to the tray she was holding. Perhaps she could bake some gingerbread too, that would be fun!

Coughing, “sure, yes. I would love that.” She paused, neither had formally introduced themselves yet. Momentarily blanking on her own name, she nodded again to stall for time. “What’s your name?”

“I’m John, and you?” His voice dropped to a shy level, as did his gaze. She couldn’t help but snigger, he was blushing lightly too.

“Renée.”

“You’re really… you know, you’re _beautiful,_ Renée.”

Nodding along, “thank you. As are you.”

Their eyes met, her gleaming blue on his shielded brown, guarded by the thin frames he wore. He was staring intently, jaw slack, he was leaning in. She could’ve sworn she was too.

_Is that… mistletoe above the door?! Oh no!_

Jumping back with a cough, she startled as he moved away. Blushing softly, lips still parted and waiting.

They both kept quiet a moment. The heat of her palms clasping tight to her biscuit tray reminding her that she still had deliveries to make and introductions to do. “I… erm, apologies John… think I’m going to carry on dishing these out. I look forward to Friday, I really do!”

Renée pulled back, elated to see a small smile tug up on his lips. Though he was a little embarrassed, John didn’t drop his gaze.

“I can’t wait to have you, have you _here_ I mean!” He chuckled at his own innuendo, motioning to the mistletoe that indeed was strategically placed above the doorframe. Renée rolled her sapphire eyes.   
  


_What a tool..._

With a small wave, she bid John (and Rolf, who had reappeared and was now being cradled in John’s arms) farewell to round the corner and greet her new neighbour. Though she didn’t miss him calling her back before slipping out of his sight.

“‘Member to wear an _ugly_ Christmas jumper! And the biscuits, Ren!”

She sent a wink his way, sure it was melting him. Renée was certain, much like the Danish butter biscuits, John was growing accustomed to her. _Addicted,_ if she could dare to admit it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to multiple sources, John did own a dog called Rolf and a cat called Chaz. Who knows if that’s true, even though I’ve read those names so many times in multiple magazines.


	2. Knocking Her Jingle Bells!

Engulfing a shaky breath, Renée didn’t even have chance to knock twice as the door burst open. John was standing proud before her, a blinding white smile lighting up his face; this time _without_ his glasses, she noted.

“You came!” John carefully embraced her, weary of the precious, scrumptious, delightfully crumbly biscuits she was holding in multiple festive tins. She half hugged him, kissing his cheek.

“I did!” She chuckled, a small flush forming on her sun-kissed face. Or was that the ruby blusher? “No mildly offensive Christmas jumper this time?”

Looking down, John surveyed himself. With pride, “nope! Come in, come in! Mi casa ist du casa and all that.”

Stepping back to welcome her in; Renée couldn’t help but giggle, hopping over the threshold for the first time. John’s heavenly browns roamed her form, she had done one better than simply worn a tacky Christmas jumper for this party…

“Wait, lemme guess.” John stated, helping her with her biscuit tins. She batted her lashes, pillar box lips unveiling her pearly whites as John surveyed her. “I’ve got it! _Renée,_ The Red Nosed Reindeer!”

“Yes!” She giggled, meeting the joy in his gaze with her own.

Renée really had outdone herself, ready to make a great first impression amongst John and his friends. She was decked out in a brown, ruffled tutu; long black socks with red bows and fur lined black pixie boots. _A little eighties,_ she had to admit. She wore a red bardot top, encrusted with ruby gemstones, falling elegantly off of her shoulders. To top it off, she motioned to the antler headband, the bells jingling ever so slightly when she shook her head.

John couldn’t help but giggle, fingertips knocking into her jingle bells.

Guiding her further inside, Renée briefly surveyed apartment 7609. John’s place was relatively neat for a _bachelor pad_ , or so she had assumed by the way he had been eyeing her the first time they met. The floor plan was pretty similar to her own, John had a small connected kitchen and winding corridors which she could only assume led to his bedroom and bathroom. Before her, lay some modern _IKEA_ furniture, delightfully mismatched sofas and a small, slick coffee table. Scarlet cushions to match the cream walls.

In the corner near the TV lay the Christmas wreath. John’s Christmas bonanza, it seemed. His Christmas tree was small and modest. A green fir, decorated with some corny big brass red baubles and gaudy lights. Glittery reindeer atop of the table and some huge illuminated penguins by her feet! Though, her face fell, there was only one single stocking hung; looking so blue without its silver.

Pivoting around, Renée’s ears (though she did blame the bells dangling from her earrings) pricked up. She was reminded that they weren’t alone. There was a light kerfuffle, a range of voices and other sounds. Braving the walk, she was now faced with a few of John’s nearest and dearest, Renée couldn’t help but tense up slightly; almost dropping her biscuit tins in the process.

_Keep calm, keep smiling._

“No worries, they won’t bite! Though Charley may get vicious over those biscuits.” John murmured into her left ear, she shivered slightly as his breath tickled the side of her face. “And your erm, y’know, _crackers_.”

Casting a weary look back to John’s mini Christmas paradise, she gulped audibly, wondering if she could make it back out of there unscathed. John’s soft palm on her shoulder blade, told her she would be okay. She was _wanted,_ that her presence mattered. He embraced her, motioning to his few guests.

She put on her best front page worthy smile, as John introduced his new neighbour to his crowd.

“Here’s the biscuit lady I told ya’s about! Renée Toft, this is everyone. _Renée_ is new to the building, make her feel comfortable, y’know?”

Together they made the rounds. She was introduced to John’s best friend Simon, and his darling fiancé Yasmin: both were dressed in cringe-worthy elf costumes. Renée was laughing through Simon’s jokes, however outlandish and standoffish some did seem to be, immediately chocking him up to being the funniest of the bunch. Then Nick; who John repeatedly declared his _bestest friend for life,_ she groaned internally at his phrasing, and Nick’s new wife Julie Anne. This ‘happy’ couple were wearing jumpers simply stating “you scumbag” and “you maggot.”

“You cheap lousy—”

“—Waz!” John yelped, eyes wide.

Then finally the two gents taking up the beanbag, Warren and Sterling who both motioned her over by a wave of their beer bottles. Warren was quick to embrace her, scrambling to standing, placing a cheeky kiss on her cheek much to Renée’s surprise. He was dressed simply in a vest and a Santa hat, plenty of flesh on show. Renée couldn’t help but flush, he really was quite delicious…

Stepping back to unruffled her skirt and smooth back down her hair, she followed John to his table of snacks and goodies. Sandwiches, crisps, sausage rolls, a Christmas pud and plenty of other finger food – how sweet. Placing the biscuit tins down, Renée chuckled at the impatient git, giggling as John’s hand snaked inside; pawing for his new favourites. Her homemade, _Danish_ all-butter biscuits.

“Goddamn!” John nibbled at his first, seemingly determined to savour its flavour and drop as few crumbs as he could. “So good! I’ve missed ‘em this past week!”

“Week? Well John, I’ve had to come here twice to borrow sugar! I’ve baked so many!”

“Oh crap, that reminds me.” He fumbled in his back pocket. Brandishing two tens, “here, for all the trouble you’ve gone through.”

“What, no!” She pushed away the money he offered, even though she had wracked up a pretty penny with all her recent baking endeavours.

“Are you sure?”

They bartered for a few moments more, then deciding to call it an even ten quid. Renée flashed him a grateful smile, before realising she didn’t have a purse.

“Oh, to hell with it.”

Directly in John’s line of sight, she peered down her shirt to place the ten pound note in her bra, an ever so handy place to keep her cash.

John’s eyes visibly bugged out of his head. She took that as a compliment, smirking to herself.

“Shit, sorry.” He murmured, looking down.

“No apologies.”

The two had ran into each other a couple of times since their infamous first meeting last Sunday. She had learnt that John had a little mutt that liked to roam the hallways, Rolf, who had been yapping at her door right up until Renée had opened up. John had stood there, gaping, tripping over his apology on behalf of his dear _Rolfie_. She said that it wasn’t needed, crouching down to pet him. And now she was yet to make a formal introduction to his golden parakeet Wolfgang, merrily chirping away in his cage. His cat, Chaz, was currently mewing softly in her bed beside the sofa.

“Please Ren, make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back. Mulled Wine sound good? Courtesy of the Bates family.”

“Can you bring me a soft drink, too? I do _not_ need that wine getting to my head!” She joked, bringing her arms around herself; now she felt on show without any biscuits to hold.

John smiled, softly. “Coke okay?”

“Actually John, I prefer _Pepsi_ myself. Do you have any?”

John visibly blanked. Squealed.

“Erm, John?”

“Of course. I agree, _Pepsi_ is far superior…” He nodded, his smile was so damn infectious. Renée didn’t understand why she couldn’t fight it, matching his grin with one of her own. “ _Pepsi Max_ it is, then, Ren.”

Renée couldn’t help but notice, as John left to grab her some of Nick’s homemade mulled wine and the _Pepsi_ can, what he was dressed as. Or, what his ugly Christmas sweater depicted him as. Surprising herself, she hadn’t even commented on it yet; or really taken the jumper in.

His blaring red jumper had golden buttons knitted on, a fluffy white trim and a huge silver buckle on the black belt. He had a cute little podgy belly on him, John, thoroughly adding to the festive look. Casting a glance to the table, she saw the abandoned hat, confirming what may have been her worst fear.

John was half dressed as _Santa,_ a poor man’s attempt at bringing Mr Claus’ spirit. She couldn’t help but note the irony, gaping at him when dressed as one of Santa’s reindeers.

They really did go hand in hand. Or, hoof in hand?


	3. Someone Special

“‘Ello, Ren? You alright, you haven’t moved? You’ve been starin’ at me for a couple…”

His voice dulled to nothing. Renée was caught, lost in those dark browns, own eyes trailing the flowing auburn hair, then roaming the somewhat defined jawline. His little nose, his overbite which she deemed adorable.

Her eyes followed his hands, placing down the drinks, then slowly bringing another one of her biscuits to his lips. A _gingerbread_ this time, with a delightful snowflake iced on top. John’s soft moans voiced to her that she was on to another winner, his hand clasping to her side finally shaking her from her daze.

“… Ren? Is everythin’…” he gobbled up the biscuit, moaning aloud.

She stepped forward, closing the gap. Leaning in, her plump lips caressed his own ever so softly, glistening eyes fluttering closed as she craved more contact. Running her deft fingertips through his flowing mane, Renée bought him down even further into the moment, humming softly. She pulled back first, eyes broadening to see that smirk.

_What did you just do?_

“You’re…” Renée placed the hat back on his head, stumbling over what to say. Giggling when the white cotton trim fell down over his eyes momentarily.

John laughed as he straightened the hat out.

“You’re _Santa_ in leather trousers… and I’m—”

“— _Renée,_ my beautiful Red Nosed Reindeer.” He breathed, the grip on her hip tightening.

John was breathing heavily, her heated gaze followed his other hand to fully clasp her trim waist. John reeled her in, sniggering to himself.

“Look up.”

Renée did, antler headband slipping back and bells jingling.

There, right above them both lay a strategically placed strand of mistletoe. Renée blinked once, twice, knowing that it had once been above the door.

“Oh, you…”  
  


Nodding, the fog in her mind beginning to clear; she found herself clinging to his deep voice again. Facing him, eyes locking, her lips parting with a small gasp. John sealed his lips onto hers again, tasting ever so sweet thanks to her biscuits. Pulling away, Renée gracefully barked out a laugh: her lipstick cherry all over his lens. He had to be careful not to fall back, a hand on his jumper helping to steady John.

“I’m sorry, you’ve, come here! John, you’ve got…” giggling, she hastily swiped a napkin to swipe the colour from John’s face.

He simply stood there, eyes firmly locked onto hers. Renée idly wiped at his pouty lips, topaz eyes darkening into something more sinister. More magnificent, a daring sapphire.

“Did you bring me here, with my cookies, just so we could…” _kiss right here?!_ Renée’s joyful voice trailed off, pastel fingertip pointing upwards.

John sniggered, leaning down to whisper: “Y’know you kissed me first, Ren.”

Renée stepped back, the realisation hitting her hard. “… I did, gosh, I _did._ John, I’m ever so sorry I— believe me when I say I didn’t even notice it. I thought it was by the door!”

John simply motioned over his shoulder, the front door still in her line of sight. Renée’s gaze widened upon landing on the little green demon – there indeed was more mistletoe dangling inside his apartment!

“I’m a bugger, I’ll admit.” Raising his palms he surrendered to her, Renée cocked a naughty brow at the thought. Then, John’s gaze dropped and he became shy agin; blush near matching the scarlet jumper. “You got me addicted to them biscuits, now I wanna, y’know, get _you_ addicted too…”

Renée couldn’t help but beam, reading his mind. _Your lips. How cruel._

“The taste of them on your lips.” She continued, voice growing with conviction and cheekiness. “Very gingery.”

He nodded, shyly. “Can I, can we, you know… may I, may we…”

Rolling her light eyes, Renée lurched forward to clasp his cut chin: forcing his gaze back onto her. “Yes John, you may— oh, hi Rolf!”

John’s dog had come sprinting over, yapping at Renée. His tail was waving in excitement, tongue darting out to lap over her pixie boots. She knelt down, arms open for Rolf to scramble into, bringing him back up to lick at John’s nose.

He giggled with glee, shutting eyes, as his dog slobbered all over him. And Renée, Rolf was sure to not let her miss out on his love.  
  


  
Clutching tight to her new four-legged friend, Renée finally finished her sentence. “Rolf was right, wanting us together. John, you may _kiss_ me again.”

Taking that step forward, the bells on her antler headband jingled ever so slightly, with John tipping her head up to meet his pasty lips. She was quick to respond, Rolf letting out a shriek and leaping out of her grip. Threading her now free hand round his back and the other into his silken hair; pushing herself into John’s figure, Renée moulded herself into his chest. Finding that she really liked being there, slotting in like the correct jigsaw piece.

The kiss was deep, closed mouthed, and still she become lightheaded. Pulling away with a gasp, Renée startled momentarily. John’s fingers were brushing hers, perhaps he really wanted to take this somewhere without the mistletoe casting it’s spell, bringing them together with its magnetic pull.

“For Christ’s sake Nigel. You’ve got a _Coca-Cola_ Santa jumper on, have her sit on your lap!” Someone called, Renée wasn’t sure.

“Oi, Charley!” John shot back, breaking their moment. She didn’t know who ‘Charley’ was, yet.

“Wait, _Nigel?_ ” Renée questioned, voice deep in understanding. “Is that really your name?” He stumbled over his answer before simply nodding, Renée found that to be ever so endearing. “I like it, the name sounds very, well, sixties. A charming, old English Gentleman.”

Turning back to face her, John grew ever so shy again. “It... it does?”

Mocking, she tapped his button nose twice. “It does. Everything _you_ are _not_.”

  
  
“Hey!” He squirmed in her grip, leaning down to giggle into her neck.

“C’mon, snog ‘er again, Johnny!” Their moment was broken by a hoard of rowdy calls, reminding Renée that they weren’t alone.

“Yeah John! All you need is the Santa beard and she’ll be all over ya!” Soon to be Mrs Elf called, Yasmin’s laughter ringing throughout the living room.

  
  
“At least he _shaved_ today, Yassie.” Simon chuckled, provoking more laughter from the group and a raised brow from Renée.

  
  
“And look at that, _Nigel,_ we have an audience.” She sniggered, pressing her hands to John’s pecs; who startled slightly.

“Uh-huh, yeah, _yeah_ we do…” He grunted, clearly a little flabbergasted.

“Wait, w-wait, wait, _wait!_ ” Simon called, drawing their attention. “You’re not just going to let her get away with that, are you Johnny?”

Puzzled, sorrow coating her blues, “get away with what? What did I do wrong?”

John shuffled aside, Renée didn’t let him go.

Crooking a finger, she was lured in by the cheeky glint in Simon’s eye. He whispered into her ear, knowing that John was right there and could easily still hear him. Renée pressed herself into his frame, smiling softly at his words. “You called him ‘Nigel.’ Only Nick and his parents are allowed to do so, you really must mean something to him as he didn’t tell you off. He trusts you, Renée, you must mean a whole lot to my sweet little Johnny.”

  
  
Pulling away, Renée questioned him. “I do?”

Simon simply shrugged, motioning back to the crowd.

  
“I do?” Turning back to John, who was slumping over the table of food, Renée posed. He said nothing, glance heavy on her untouched _Pepsi_ can. Grinning, she confirmed what was her worst fear: her heart catching fire. “I _do_.”

“Yeah... hell yeah, you do.” With a small cough, John stumbled over his few words. She found his fluffing up over a simple _let’s get back to the party_ adorable. Then she found his stuttered _you really look good, you know?_ also oddly charming. He really did present himself as a questionable disaster.

“Thank you, John. Why don’t we pass these out? I want to meet everybody properly, on my own accord.”

“Y-yeah, erm okay.” She whirled around, perking up as John stopped her from grasping the tins. Gaze falling to their interlocked fingers, she let her eyes roam up his arm and back to his face; the small blush still coating his cheeks.

“Yes?” She prompted, cocking a brow.

“Thank you, by the way.”

“For what?”

John bit his lip, stalling for time perhaps. She saw him roll the words around in his mouth, struggling to find his tone. Reassuring, Renée leant forward to place a small kiss to the tip of his teeny nose; smirking inwardly as she felt John turn to putty beneath her.

How the tables had turned, she really was becoming addicted to _him._

Stammering, John held her gaze and finally made it through. “Thank you for… kissin’ me back. It really, you know, really means… yeah. It means so much to me, I really _like_ you. Oh and, for not laughin’ at my real name.”

“I would never! Besides, I think I like you too.” It appeared her level head would let her fall in love so easily, hardened heart really beginning to soften for the man standing before him. Taking his hand, Renée nodded to her biscuit tins. John grasped the festive gingerbread as Renée grasped the all-butter biscuits. “I’ll bake you some more for Christmas.”

“ _Yesss!_ ” John fist bumped the air, she snorted.

They were drawing in a crowd: hands pawing, _clawing_ for her festive delights. Yasmin was smiling bright, a hand on her shoulder. Beckoning Renée over, she whispered into her ear. “You’ll make John a very happy man. I’ll be your bridesmaid.”

Renée pulled away with a laugh, it really was too soon.

“You’ll be good to him, Janine hurt him bad.”

“Janine?” She questioned Simon, who had snuck up on her side out of nowhere. “We are no couple, just starting to become good friends.”

“Bullshit, I know my Johnny. He’s in deep.”   
  


Her eyes widened at Simon’s words, knowing she needed more.

“ _Last Christmas,_ he gave Janine his heart. But the very next day, _she_ gave it away.” Simon sang, Renée couldn’t help but blush: he really had a good voice. Whispering the love song in her ear, “this year, to save _himself_ from tears. He wouldn’t give his heart to just someone...”

She really wondered just how much Simon did know. How much had John told him about her? What was he really feeling?

“Renée, you know how the song goes. You’re someone _special._ ”

“Special?”

Simon simply winked before disappearing from her sight.

Who would’ve thought, her favourite sweet treats would have led her to this. Santa and his reindeer, ready to strap on for the sleigh ride. Catching sight of John, laughing and… _not_ drinking mulled wine – _he doesn’t drink?_ \- with Nick, Renée found her grin plastering itself to her fresh face and her heart begin to flutter. Usually, she could never fall so fast.

_Special?_

  
“Ren, care to join us?” John half yelled from his sofa, now patting Chaz absentmindedly.

She was craving more than just another sweet, gingery kiss from her mysterious stranger. From her Christmas miracle, biscuit adoring Johnny.

  
“Coming, Nigel.”

_Yes. Special._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving to my readers in the US, hope you’re all feeling festive and celebrating safely. ♥️


	4. A Holly Jolly Evening

“Quick, before I go. One kiss!” Pointing upwards, that smirk painted his face as their collective gaze landed on the mistletoe above the front door.

Rolling her light blue eyes, Renée agreed. Leaning down, she clasped Warren’s cut chin and bought him up for a good snog; knowing that John was watching behind her and cheering them on.

“Thanks sweetheart! See ya, JT.”

And with that, the last of the stragglers were out of there. It was almost midnight, Renée herself was more than ready to return to her apartment. Scrub off her minimal makeup and place the reindeer antlers away for another year.

John’s hand on her hip told her otherwise.

Twirling around, she cocked a brow as she followed his movements. The grip on her trim waist tightened, reeling in his dolly, to run his longer fingers through her golden hair. Renée, and the two glasses of mulled wine, was practically melting into John’s embrace, wanting a cuddle and finding she really fit right between his outstretched arms.

“I have to go.” She motioned to the open door, John wasn’t having it.

Playful, “no, not yet! Stay, another half hour tops! Or crash here, with me.”

“John, it’s only down the hallway.”

She pursed her plump lips in a silent retaliation. His brown eyes were wide, in what she could only assume was his puppy-eyes, almost begging for her to stay. With a small groan, then a cheeky giggle as his arms fell to her waist again: Renée agreed.

She immersed herself in his dimly lit apartment. Golden candle light, a sweet scent of cinnamon. Very _hygge,_ reminding her of the comforts of home. Ever so warm, tender and inviting. Blankets and hot chocolate, frightful weather outside but a delightful fire.

John ushered her to the sofas, his tabby Chaz was happily mewing, pushing her down.

“Stay here. I’ve gotta take my eyes out.”

“What?!”

“Language barrier. My contacts, I mean.”

John returned promptly, thin frames now adorning his face. Renée really was warming up to the look, these glasses suited him wonderfully.

He hopped in beside her, before sprawling out. Long legs dropping over the end, head resting in her lap.

“Long day?”

His smirk was blinding. “Absolutely, like _you_ wouldn’t believe! I’ll clean up in morning.”

They’d really had a hell of a night, John’s friends had been wonderful to her and had really helped to make her feel welcome in his – Nigel’s – world. Renée found herself to be absentmindedly running her pastel fingertips through his shaggy auburn curls, feeling the warmth blossoming in her chest at having another body so close. Either that or it was the Bates’ mulled wine, she really didn’t mind which.

Though something had been on her mind throughout most of the night. She was almost certain that John too really wanted to ask. Always one step ahead, Renée decided to take the plunge and ask him. What he really wanted for Christmas this year. _You._

“So, Simon and I got to talking and—”

“— Crap, yeah.” He groaned, her hand stalling from weaving through his hair. “What did he even…?”

“And Yasmin. She happens to think she’ll make a lovely _bridesmaid_.”

“Bridesmaid?!” John yelped, Renée’s sudden laughter poorly helping to calm him.

“No, no! Don’t even think about that.”

“I’ll try, marriage just ain’t on the cards for me… So, what about Simon then?”

She thought a moment, their sing-songy conversation still fresh in mind. “Nothing much. Is it true?”

John eyed her, blinking twice.

“Is what true, Ren?”

Simon’s little serenade was content in her memory. Preserved, savoured. His voice was perfect, soft and subtle, that he conveyed the melancholy feeling as his tones of wonder and hope began to override the somber.

“Did you…” she trailed off, wondering if she should even try. To hell with it. Renée staggered her gait and inhaled a deep breath, gaze never leaving John’s rosy cheeks. “ _Last Christmas,_ you gave Janine,” she paused, he stiffened, “your heart. But the very next day, she gave it away…”

John’s beady browns had fallen shut, she noted the hasty rises and falls of his chest.

“This year, to save yourself from tears. John, you wouldn’t give your heart to…” _anyone special. Is that it?_

John simply arose from her lap, she swallowed down her nervous feeling of going too far. Crossing the boundary, erecting the wall between them that John didn’t need.

“John?”

He slowly crept around, turning back to face her. His look was blank, lips parted and nostrils flaring. Another nervous gulp and Renée was ready to walk away, he stopped her by the hem of her tutu, silently demanding she stay.

“This year, to save me from tears.” John breathed, voice trembling and pitchy. “I’ll give it to someone _special_.”

He simply held out a hand, it was shaking. Renée’s bleary gaze followed those fingers, her own coming to land in his clammy palm. As soon as she made contact, John stopped shaking. He sighed in relief, a timid smile trying to cross his face.

“You’re someone special, you know Ren? You really are my, uh, my…”

His gaze fell to their interlocked fingers, there were sparks from such a small touch. Renée was sure of it, she didn’t let him go.

“Your reindeer?” She encouraged, motioning to the antlers, tone soft.

John’s blush had reached a new shade of adorable; beckoning her back to seated. He was leaning in, soft lips pressing a small kiss to her cheek, she couldn’t help but melt into the intimate moment.

“Simon was right, the bastard.” John broke off with a small chuckle, embarrassment seemingly filling him again. “She’s gone, long gone and I… y’know I, I just didn’t think I—”

“— Could fall in love again so soon?”

John startled, eyes clouding over with something Renée couldn’t define. Instead of trying, she was leaning back in, moulding her ruby satin lips into John’s pastel ones; forming a new shade. Their shade. She nuzzled his cheek once, twice, before moving away. Never too far, close enough that he could chase her.

He did, lips locking with hers a final time. “This is all happ’nin’ so fast. I, Lord, I don’t think I’ve ever… felt this way ‘bout anyone before so soon, you know?”

_Of course I know. I’m scared too._


	5. Dreaming Of A White Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I highly recommend playing Frankie’s “The Power Of Love” for this final chapter. Those songs really set the mood. It’s an eighties Christmas, what more can I say?

Her smile lit up her whole complexion, in a way she knew John hadn’t seen. Shaking her head in agreement, she told him that she too was nervous. She too couldn’t quite believe they had a connection so strong. It was all gut instinct, a want now turning to a craving. For more time, for more fun together.

Renée couldn’t recall feeling so joyous at the holiday season, John had really been bringing the Christmas spirit to her life; even if she hadn’t realised how much she needed that light from this no longer seventh floor stranger.

“Oh, look who’s here!”

Her chirpy tone broke the heavy silence. Motioning to a tired and groggy Rolf, who leapt up to rest beside John on the sofa. The happy pup simply plodded over before collapsing by his side, shuffling in tight. His hand fell to his fur, running idly through it. A pleased yap sounded, Renée’s smile didn’t leave her face.

“You know he was really right about you. Me liking you and all.” John muttered, gaze dropping to his dear Rolfie, now dozing beside him.

Nodding, “that I do, Nigel.”

His gaze snapped back to her, as did his beaming smile.

The minutes passed in near silence. John simply resting his head on her shoulder, petting Rolf as he slept. Renée found herself near dreaming, caught in a trance as her eyes landed on the flickering lights that decorated his tree. The angel atop it had surely waved her wand enough, cast her magic onto the two of them so time could stop. So they could savour this moment, another Christmas miracle.

A light snore and Renée’s heated gaze fell to her left. John was softly dozing, in the haze between dream and sleep, ever so at peace. Carefully, she slipped herself free and eased him down onto his sofa to rest his head. Removing his glasses, John let out a soft moan of content. John kept his dog close, hands trailing through the light fur, never breaking his stride.

“Goodnight, John.”

His voice was bleary, it took him a moment to answer. Heavy lids peeling open for just a second, he simply stated: “Goodnight, Ren. Glay-dee-leg jool.”

Her broad smile lit up her face, crouching down to press a final soft kiss to his forehead. She was flattered, he had attempted to wish her a Merry Christmas like they did back home. His efforts truly meant something, no matter how blissed out he may now seem.

“Glædelig jul min julemanden.”

“What?”

“Shush shush,” her lips lightly tickled his cheeks. “Merry Christmas, my _Santa_.”

Renée eased herself away, casting a warm glance over John’s body, his subtle rises and falls of chest and little Rolf snuggled in tight. She decided to show herself out, being sure to pet Chaz before doing so. Wolfgang was dozing in his cage, she noted with a grin.

Creeping through to the apartment door, she tread gently on the ground. Unlocking it, she took a final look John’s way.

_Merry Christmas, Nigel John Taylor._

Inching the door closed to apartment 7609, she strolled across the narrow hallway to her own place. A small smile plastered to her face, her body was alight with feeling. Head swirling on merriment, she was beaming.

Simon was ever so right. Santa’s reindeer was really someone special. Special enough for John to give his heart too, special enough for Renée to do the same. She couldn’t quite believe that stuttering over knocking and a simple ‘hello’, all-butter biscuits in hand, could have resulted in her having the greatest gift this year.

Being _wanted_ by someone who too dreamed of a white Christmas, hand in hand with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic truly has a special place in my heart, I’m ever so soft and in awe of these two in the verse I created. Out of fun, out of my own enjoyment and diversion. This truly was only a few hundreds words, I didn’t expect much to come out of this. Though I will say, I really love this story. It’s perfectly warm for the time of year. 
> 
> ~~ Merry (early) Christmas from me. Thank you for such an incredible fic year in this extreme circumstances, my writing output has been insane and as have the ideas. 🎄
> 
> I hope 2021 will bring about some more AU’s from myself, if my Uni workload will allow.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a few random AUs of these two, some with Yasmin/Simon too. Maybe I’ll post my wintery collection throughout December, maybe not. Would anyone be interested?


End file.
